


Human Touch

by Soupernabturel



Series: Magical Mystical Bunker Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Affectionate Castiel, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Embarrassed Dean, Established Relationship, Hurt Dean, Kisses, M/M, Magical Mystical Bunker Fic, Massages, Morphine high!Dean, Mothering!Cas, Romantic Fluff, Silently pleased Dean, Small bit of angst, concerned!Cas, crack and fluff, human!Cas, mentions of sex and sexual acts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-15 03:29:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2214138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soupernabturel/pseuds/Soupernabturel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean keeps on getting hurt, and a newly human Cas keeps trying to make him feel better...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Human Touch

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Just something short and fluffy i wrote while on the train, hope you all enjoy!

 

The first time it happened Dean felt; admittedly turned on... cos _come on..._  it was Cas sucking on his finger, what wasn’t there to love? Secondly he felt completely bewildered as Cas sucking on his finger (in a not, ‘we-don’t-have’-any-lube-and-i-really-want-my-cock-in-your-ass’ way) also was really freaking weird, even for them.

 

So really it all began with a paper cut.

 

“Fuck, ow.” Dean swore, dropping the magazine he had been flicking through as he brought his finger up to his mouth to suck it.

 

“Paper cut?” Kevin asked. He raised an eyebrow, glancing at Dean over the cover of the book he was reading.

 

“Yeah,” Dean grunted, pulling out his finger, waving it in the cooling air a few times as the sharp sting faded into a duller throbbing. “Fuckin hate that shit ma-”

  
“Dean?” Cas called out, running into the bunkers main room, his eyes wide and worried, dark hair in clear disarray. “Are you alright? I heard you yell out?”

 

Now, Dean and Cas had been dating for a few weeks by this point, and by ‘ _dating_ ’ Dean meant fucking like bunnies in their respective rooms, (and several more communal areas of the bunker if he was to be honest) so it wasn’t weird to see Castiel streaming into the room in one of Dean’s shirts and a pair of baggy sweats.

  
Well the running thing was kind of weird, so was the panicked look to Cas’ eye.

 

“Yeah babe I just, cut myself on some paper-hey!”

 

Cas had grabbed Dean’s hand and drawn it up to his face, inches from his nose. He studied Dean’s finger as though it was some great unsolvable problem, eyes squinted to pin prick precision.  

 

“Cas,” Dean said, trying to steal back his finger “it’s just a cut jeez.”

 

“You are hurt.” Cas said sombrely, as though the small, barely there cut really pained him.

 

Dean was about to make a joke, perhaps a snarky comeback but before he could, Cas had lifted Deans finger up to his lips and swallowed it down like the sweetest bit of candy.

 

Dean yelped (completely manly) as Cas’ swallowed around his digit, tracing the whorls of Dean’s finger pad with his tongue as though it was the most normal freaking thing in the world. He smoothed over Dean’s cut with his tongue, and hummed lightly as he sucked on Dean’s finger all the while.

 

It took everything in Dean not to groan out loud.

 

Cas’ mouth was _hot_ and _wet_ and instantly Dean’s mind sank into the gutter thinking about how good Cas’ mouth felt around his cock.

 

Kevin, sitting at the opposite side of the table made a choking sound, that snapped Dean and Cas out of their singular bubble-like existence, and (much to the relief and regret of a very red faced Dean) made Cas release his finger with a sloppy 'pop' sound, finishing it off with a final sweet kiss to the shiny tip.

 

“There.” Castiel intoned deeply, patting Dean on the side of his face softly. “All better.”

 

And then he turned around, pulled up his (Dean’s) sweats and left the room.

 

It took a moment for all of Dean’s mental functions to kick back into gear, and for blood to sink into his head, instead of trickling down into his cock.

 

“The fuck?” Dean asked, looking towards the empty path Cas had taken out of the room, heat curling low in his belly.

 

“That was something I _never_ needed to see, Dean.” said Kevin, looking at Dean as though he was Hitler incarnate. He sighed a sigh that sounded far too old for a  kid, packed up his books and left the room, shaking his head like a disappointed parent.

 

Dean sat in the bunkers library and stared at his finger, shining under the overhead light, slick with Castiel’s saliva.

 

Well, at least it didn’t hurt much _now_.

 

___

 

The next time it happened Dean was just as caught off guard as he was the first time, perhaps even more so-

 

This time they were out on a hunt, a small nest of Vamps out near the main free-way, just Dean, Sam and Cas this time. It was only a day job, a few hours out from the bunker, a few hours back once the nest was cleared. Simple as that, easy peasy.

 

At least until Dean tripped over a decapitated Vamp head and twisted his ankle.

 

Which, although it was funny to say out loud, hurt like a bitch.

 

Just Dean's fucking luck.

 

At least Sam was there to behead the Vamp that was soon upon Dean, taking advantage of his clumsiness as it pinned him to the dirt floor.

 

“Dude,” Sam said, shaking his head. He clapped his hand in Dean’s and pulled him up to his feet. He sheathed his blood soaked machete and looked down to the now two decapitated Vampire heads near their feet. “You’ve gotta be more careful.”

 

“You-You’ve gotta be more careful.” Dean retaliated lamely wincing as he tried to rest his right foot on the ground- pain shooting up through it, making him grit his teeth.

 

Sam sucked in a tight breath and with practised ease, slipped one arm up and under Dean’s, supporting him.

 

“Twisted ankle?” He asked, voice lowered in sympathy.

 

Dean just growled deep in his throat, and began the long hobble back to the impala with Sam beside him, holding him up.

 

Cas was already waiting by the Impala when Dean and Sam approached- well, less so approached then limped forward, with Dean looking like an abused dog with one leg held up like that.

 

At the sight of Dean’s apparent injury Cas’ eyes both widened and his lips pursed into a thin, non-existent line. He, like the both of them, was covered in Vamp blood, and dirt and muck- but Dean was extremely thankful to see that he was in no worse shape than what he was when he came out here.

 

Cas was just a bit dirty, which meant he needed a shower, something that even with a busted ankle, Dean could get in on.

 

“Sam you drive.” Castiel said, his voice sounding equally as demanding and stony as it had that time so many years ago when he told Dean he could throw him back into hell.

 

“You,” he said, taking over Sam’s position as honorary leaning post with a lot more ease than Dean expected, “in the back.”

 

“Cas seriously it’s fine.” Dean said, but tightened his arms around Cas’ shoulders anyway as Cas motioned for him to duck his head, lowering him into the back seat.

 

It took a little bit of fiddling and scooting to get Dean lying down on the back seat, Cas sitting with Dean’s legs propped up over his lap. But once Dean was comfortable (as comfortable as he could be with a throbbing ankle) he opened his mouth to say something to Cas, who had, slipped off his boot and rolled up his jeans exposing his black socked foot and hairy, painful ankle.

 

“Be quiet Dean.” Cas said, before Dean could even get a word out. He trailed his fingers across the already slightly swelling area of Dean’s ankle,  his touch feather light.

 

“Cas come on man it’s just a- _ooh~”_

 

Cas was digging his thumbs into the arch of Dean’s foot, pressing and rolling Dean’s foot in his hands as he kneaded the aching muscle expertly.

 

Sam glanced back at Dean and Cas in the review mirror, his voice edged with concern. “You alright Dean?”

 

Pleasure overrode the pain, and Dean arched his head back groaning deeply in his throat as Cas’ decisive, and nimble fingers dug and pressed into the sole of his foot, rubbing and pushing the skin in small little circle. Dean’s eyes fluttered closed as he pressed his head back against the window, the column of his throat exposed. “I’m good Sammy _, oh fuck Cas._ ”

 

Cas just hummed in the back of his throat, continuing to massage Dean’s foot with one hand as he used the other to, weirdly enough massage each of Dean’s socked toes individually. A shiver of pleasure ran up Dean’s spine as his toes curled unwittingly bending to Cas' touch.Dean involuntarily let out a happy sigh, pressing his heel into Cas’ jean clad thigh.  God the wonders Cas could do with this hands-

 

“Eyes on the road Sam.” Castiel said, somewhere outside the darkness of the back of Dean’s eyelids.  “We cannot afford another accident.”

 

“Are you-” Sam began just as Cas used the knuckles of two fingers to dig right into the aching sole of Dean’s foot, as though breaking up the tenseness that was lodged inside.

 

“Are you giving him a freaking massage?”Sam asked sounding aghast.

 

When Cas gave a particularly lovely squeeze to the top of Dean’s foot, fingers sliding around and inside the socks band, Dean pushed his leg deeper into Cas’ thigh and rather loudly and forcefully _moaned_. He was too blissed out, too unaccustomed to the simple but unfamiliar pleasure of a foot massage to even think about his twisted ankle.  Who ever would have guessed foot massages could feel like this- so _fucking good_? Dean Winchester was losing his foot-massage-virginity and moaning like a two dollar whore for it.

 

_“Mmmm, ah-Cas your hands~”_

 

Cas may have mumbled something that sounded a lot like ‘beloved’ as he poured all of his previously angelic intensity, all of his concentration into giving Dean some sort of foot orgasm and possibly a future foot fetish. “Let me make you feel better.”

 

Sam’s answering groan, unlike Dean’s, was more so of exasperation than from ridiculous amounts of pleasure.  Sam straightened his shoulders and looked pointedly ahead. “I swear to god if you start getting freaky while I’m driving-”

 

“Shut up Sam.” Dean scolded his brother. His eyes popped open as he felt Cas start to press his hands around, Dean’s ankles, light touches at first that then grew firmer. “Yeah-ah, just be careful with the-ooh fuck babe your hands are like magic.”

 

Castiel made no comment, just massaged around and lightly on Dean’s abused ankle, seemingly perfectly happy to do this for the rest of the drive, something Dean personally couldn't find a fault in. Especially after, when they got back to the bunker and laid Dean up in his bed, Cas decided to stretch Dean out and show him what other places felt like when _they_ were massaged.

 

So as it was, Cas’ new fascination with soothing Dean’s every ache and pain was turning out to be not entirely awful.

 

___

 

It became a habit really- Dean would get hurt on a hunt, at the bunker anywhere- and Cas would pamper, spoil and just smother him in affection for hours after. Massages, foot squeezes, back rubs, impromptu kisses and make out and _pie-_ hell, he even ran Dean a bath after he dislocated his shoulder, then spreading Dean out on the bed after and drying every inch- _every inch_ with a heavenly soft towel, his lips and his tongue. Dean revelled in the attention, absolutely loving this new physical realm their relationship had stumbled into. Sam and Kevin however probably appreciated it less, and would give both Dean and Cas a wide birth if Dean’s pampering took a more southern turn. (stubbing his toe had totally been worth the blow job he’d received in the Bunker’s kitchen) It was this perfect kind of symbiosis that just worked out for everyone.

 

At least that was until another hunt, where Dean had taken a hard fall from a second story window when a ghost had pushed him out of it.

 

Yeah that had been particularly painful.

 

“Fuck Sam don’t walk so hard, flat-footed fu-UCK!!” Dean screamed out in pain, biting so hard into his bottom lip he was afraid he’d bite through it- when all of a sudden Cas threw his stupid self at Sam who was carrying Dean broken and bruised and all so much hurting, in his arms.  

  
With Dean’s scream of pain Cas backed up slightly, allowing Sam space to grunt and adjust his hold of Dean in his arms (for the most part at least, Dean was a pretty big dude in his own right, so really Sam was only carrying half of him).

 

“Dean” Cas said, his voice hoarse but quiet, which just made Dean clench his eyes shut. “You’re hurt.”

 

Dean opened one accusing eye and glared at the ex-angel standing before him. “No shit Sherlock,” he spat, holding back a low moan of pain, “fucking bitch ghost pushed me outta fucking window!”

 

Sam forever the diplomat, spoke before either Dean or Cas could say anything more. “We’ve gotta get Dean to a hospital, I think he broke his leg and he may have a concussion.”

 

“I’m fine, I’m fine-” Dean was somewhat less fine as another bout of vertigo hit him and he doubled over, spitting blood into the dirt. “God I think my ribs broken.”

 

Sam as the man with a plan in the trio- and the only one not one half of a weirdly dysfunctional (romantic) relationship, said calmly; “Cas can you drive? I’ve gotta stay in the back with Dean and keep him steady, if he has a broken rib it could puncture something vital.”

 

If anything Sam’s words only made Cas look paler, like he was going to be sick.

 

“Dean-” Cas said brokenly, with one arm outstretched towards Dean.

 

Dean was in far too much pain to realise the hurt in Cas’ expression when- instead of welcoming the attempt of comfort, he brushed Cas off and said (barked, demanded, shouted) instead; “Just drive us to the hospital Cas.”

 

Needless to say that although the nearest hospital was about three quarters of an hour drive out, Cas made it there in twenty minutes.

 

__

 

By the time the doctors had assessed Dean’s injuries, plastered up his leg and ensured that everything was in order with his ribs, Dean was feeling pretty freaking awesome if he did say so himself.

 

Which he did- or would have… he wasn’t quite sure.

 

Morphine was one hell of a drug.

 

“Ohh-kay,” Dean said loudly, announcing to the whole hospital room (Cas and Sam) his latest epiphany. “Ghosts are officially my least favourite monster.”

 

“What about witches?” Sam asked, standing by the door of the room while Cas sat in the nearby chair- which according to Dean was a lot more ‘far away’ then it was ‘right next to him’ which was just a damned shame.

  
“Witches, god I hate those.” Dean hunkered down in his bed, pulling the blanket up to his chin which he tapped thoughtfully with one finger. “Alright, Ghosts are the second worse thing out there, after witches.”

 

“Well it could have been worse, a bruised rib and a broken leg-”

 

“God I hate having a broken leg, they get so darn itchy.” Dean popped his lips, turning his head to catch eye of Cas sitting beside- _buttoofaraway_ \- from him.  “Hey, Mr Mute, you alright all the way over  there?”

 

“I’m fine Dean.” Cas didn’t look fine. In fact Cas looked the complete opposite of fine- he looked decidedly _un-fine_ … probably because he was so far away.

 

“Just that you look like you’re gonna throw up, and I’m on morphine man- your cute frown is harshing my mellow.”

 

Though his gaze was fixed on Cas who was staring at him blankly, Dean could see out of the corner of his eye, Sam shake his head and stifle a laugh. Dean felt surprisingly okay with Sam laughing at him- laughing was a sign that you were happy, and Dean wanted (almost) nothing more than for Sam to be happy. He kinda wanted pie a bit more right now, but that was just because his stomach was empty, and he may have wanted Cas sitting beside him- or maybe on him more, but Sam didn't need to know that.

 

With a wide, stupid smile said sasquatch uncrossed his arms from over his chest, “remind me to ask the doctors to ease you up on that Morphine Dean.”

 

Dean frowned. The morphine wasn’t _that_ strong. “Oh, eat me Sam.”

 

Sam just shook his great big shaggy head and smiled, reaching out with one hand to open up the door. “And on that note, I am hungry so I’m just gonna go see if they have anything to eat around here, either of you two want anything?”

 

Smiling (food sounded _good_ ) Dean turned around to face Cas and felt his smile drop somewhat, as Cas just sat back in his chair, his face turned away from Dean as he looked out the window.

 

“We’re fine.” Cas said without turning around. Dean felt his high all but leave him then, as Sam cast the two of them a significant glance, before going out to forage for food like some sort of animal.

 

With Sam gone now the room was quiet, only Dean’s and Cas’ own breathing breaking up the silence.

 

At least that was until Cas buried his face in his hands, made a snuffling snorting sound into his palms as his shoulder began to shake as if holding up a huge weight.

 

For all but a second, Dean sat back in his bed stunned. “Cas?” He asked, mellow officially gone now at the sight of his partner- his best friend, crying beside his hospital bedside. “Cas what the fuck man? Are you…are you crying?”

 

Castiel’s answer, when he spoke, was spluttered out between wet, choking, ugly sobs. “I’m sorry Dean, I’m so sorry.”

 

Dean’s gut tightened, and his chest constricted, and without really thinking he extended his arms out and gestured for Cas to come over and get inside em. “Cas- c’mere, hey stop that alright? Come on.”

 

Cas didn’t stop but he did shuffle over. Abandoning his chair he lifted himself up like a marionette with its strings cut, and scooted over to Dean’s bed, falling down beside him as he first sat on the edge then laid down beside his partner.  Without preamble, Dean encircled Cas’ shaking body in his arms and tried to sooth him, careful that Cas didn’t lean on his freshly plastered leg- he rubbed his hands up and down Cas’ arms, hooking his chin on Cas’ shoulder.

 

After a moment or two of silent crying, Cas gained some composure and began to speak. “Dean, I can’t-I can’t-”

 

“You can’t what Cas?” Dean asked, his voice low.

 

“Heal you, Dean. I can’t heal you any more.”

 

Oh.

 

The realisation hit Dean like a tonne of bricks, of course Cas would be feeling pretty bummed about not being able to heal Dean- now that he had no grace, now that he wasn’t an angel.

 

To be honest, Dean, Sam and Kevin had all been awaiting the day when Cas would finally crack and realise the limitation of his new species.

 

Cas wiped at his eyes and wrapped his arms around Dean’s chest (careful of his bruised rib). “I’m weak, I’m human, I have no grace I have no power. There was a time where I could touch you” he lifted one hand up and pressed two fingers against Dean’s forehead, a part of Dean almost-almost expected something to happen. When nothing did Cas let out a small broken sounding sigh before sliding his fingers above Dean’s eyebrow, past the corner of his eye to cup his freckled cheek with the palm of his hand, “and all of your aliments would heal, all of your scars would fade, your heart valves would clear-”

 

“My heart valves? You’ve been lowering my cholesterol?”

 

Cas cast him a red eyed expression that Dean read plainly as ‘well duh’. “One can only consume so much dinner food before it begins to take a toll on the body Dean.”

 

Dean squeezed Cas’ shoulder with one hand, in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. “So you’ve felt this way every time I’ve gotten hurt since you became human?” he thought back on all the times Cas had been acting protective, clingy- each time directly after Dean had been hurt in some way.

 

“I read on the internet, that when a loved one is hurting physical affection could make them feel better.” Castiel said, as his shoulders gave a small shrug. “Each time you were in pain I felt, just for a moment that when I offered you physical affection-”

 

“That you still had some mojo left.” Dean finished for him, suddenly seeing the whole picture. “Cas-” he began but licked his lips, thinking about what he was going to say. “I felt better after that stuff, after being with you, because it was _you_ Cas okay? You didn’t heal me, how you wanted to but you comforted me, and I dunno you cared enough that it made me feel-” Dean paused for a second, not quite ready to go that far yet, they had only been going out for two months.

 

_Good inside. Warm._

 

Cas was unaffected by Dean’s unfinished sentence. “I want to be able to heal you Dean.” He said, turning his head to press a chaste kiss against Dean’s arm which held him from beneath, “I take no pleasure from seeing you in pain.”

 

Dean smiled despite himself, and pressed a kiss into Castiel’s still hunt-dirty hair. “Well thanks for that.” He said smiling, waiting until Cas, cracked his own, small barely there smile in reply. “Seriously you’re human now Cas, and it means sometimes you just have to sit back and just be there for the people you care about when they’re in pain- that’s sometimes all you can do and I know it doesn’t seem like enough, but it is man. It really is.”

 

“Dean-” Cas said, then closed his mouth. He only opened it again, when he pressed his lips against Dean’s. seeking entrance into Dean’s mouth with the heated flick of a tongue.

 

They kissed for several minutes, lazily, languidly. Exchanging salvia in a sloppy manner that would have been gross with anyone else, but it was Cas so to Dean it was just about a perfect thing. And yeah Dean figured that he was still under some affects of the pain killers because he found himself giggling- laughing manly in between Cas' kisses. He offered Cas a wry shrug when he pulled back from kissing and raised an eyebrow as Dean in question. Dean didn't care all too much though, eager to get Cas back in and on his mouth, he pressed their lips together- unable to kiss due to his own smile. When they did pull apart it was only to breath, and for Dean to shift his arm out from under Cas, his muscles already tingling with the familiar feeling of pins and needles.

 

“You know,” He said voice heated and low, as he looked into his partners eyes, their mouths bare inches from each other, their foreheads pressed together, “maybe you’re right about that healing kissing theory after all?”

 

Cas hummed a pleased note and shuffled closer to Dean, lying on his side, he pressed his leg up and against Dean’s plastered one, seemingly not deterred by the thick plaster separating them. “There seems to be no adverse effects to them-” Cas said considerably, pressing a small, all-too-quick kiss against Dean’s cupid bow lips, “in fact one might say you are looking particularly better Dean.”

 

As it turned out, kisses, and light groping- not laughing- were the best medicine, for not barely twenty minutes later, Sam returned to the small room, a cafeteria pudding cup and a spoon in one hand and a ham and cheese sandwich for Cas in the other.

 

Dean barely paid his brother attention as he set the items down on what used to be Cas’ chair. (Cas was sharing the bed now with Dean anyway, kissing and sucking lightly at Dean’s neck, even as Sam entered the room)

 

Sam coughed pointedly, and Dean cracked open one eye, looking up as his brother as Cas lifted his head from Dean's neck, his lips swollen and red.  
 

 

“Hey uh, so the doctors said you’re right to go whenever we just need a wheelchair or some crutches to get you back out to the impala. There’s a chair outside waiting but I can come back if you want?”

 

Pleased, Cas lent up on his elbows and slotted his mouth over Deans.

 

“We’re good Sammy.” Dean said, pulling his mouth away from Cas’ with a wet sucking sound that made his little brother’s nose wrinkle as his brows furrow. “Behave.” Dean said to Cas, who had sneakily been running his hand over the edge of Deans leg cast, that began midway up his naked thigh. By sitting up, Dean jostled Cas from his spot maliciously, and clapped his hands together in determination, looking between his brother and his, somewhat disgruntled, but kiss swollen lipped boyfriend. 

 

“Come on let’s get this show on the road.”

 

So yeah, turned out a little affection could do a hell of a lot of healing on its own. 

 

___

 

“Ouch!” Cas yelped, seven weeks after Dean’s leg cast had come off and been thrown away. He was standing by the stove in the kitchen, Dean and Kevin seated at the table while Sam was off somewhere in the depths of the bunker (probably researching like the nerd he was).

 

“You burnt yourself?” Kevin asked, like Dean he watched as Castiel, squinted down at his burnt hand as though it offended him, before he brought it to his mouth and gave it a sorrowful lick.

 

“Yes.”  Cas answered, pouting slightly, “the bacon spat at me.”

 

Dean chuckled under his breath and made a move over to his partner, with his now two good legs, he rolled his eyes affectionately at Cas’ pout, drew Cas in by his hips and brought them flush together. “Here.”  He said, lifting Cas’ red burnt hand up to his lips as he placed a chaste kiss to the sore area. “Feel better?”

 

Cas’ eyes were hooded when he answered, the blue of his eyes bright and mirthful. “Yes.” He said, wrapping one arm around Dean’s waist as he brought them closer- so close that their thighs were touching. “But it seems I am afflicted elsewhere.”

 

“Oh?” Dean hummed in interest as he leant forward, Cas’ hand still grasped lightly in his own as he nuzzled his nose up Cas’ neck and under his chin, painting the skin there with his warm wet breath.   “Well I’ll just have to heal that up for you won’t I?”

 

“YOU TWO ARE FUCKING RIDICULOUS!”  Kevin shouted storming from the kitchen, his notebook tucked under one arm. From somewhere deeper inside the bunker, Sam laughed.

 

Dean and Cas paid no attention to either, far too busy wrapped up in each other, as lips pressed gently like fingers against foreheads, and in the very same way, healed with one touch.

 

**Author's Note:**

> this shameless fluff is my first non AU, SPN universe fic apart from Genesis haha
> 
> I guess have to write some more cannon based fics I think :P
> 
> Comments and Kudos are loved, watered twice a day and taken out for long walks on the beach.


End file.
